


never gonna say goodbye

by elixr



Category: DCU
Genre: M/M, Rick-Rolling, THERES NO RICKROLLING IN THE 25TH CENTURY, what is this even i dont know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 10:32:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11206242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elixr/pseuds/elixr
Summary: Oh holy god. Booster thinks his Rickroll was a love confession.





	never gonna say goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this at like 4am after the injustice e-mo-tions GOT ME and mixed with this stupid thing i was talking about the other day about booster + rickrolling and so  
> its all just a hot mess but sometimes you just gotta sloppy 4am boostle u kno

Of all the times for the sheepish assistant Ted has been trying to coax out of her shell to decide to develop a sense of humor in one of her messages.

Of _all_ the times.

_Never gonna give you up_

“Beetle,” Batman hisses from beside him as his phone continues to sing despite Ted's frantic attempts to close the video. The first time he's pulled out the old costume in the name of justice in forever—first time he's  _seen_ Bruce in _forever_ , and _this._

_Never gonna let you down_

“This is a _stakeout_.”

_Never gonna run around_

Some sort of new website that hides the goddamn exit button, must be, and despite it all, Ted is kind of impressed. He should track down whoever made this and—

“ _Beetle_.”

 _And desert yo_ —

It's pitch black—of course it is; freaking _Gotham_ —and he can only see a sliver of the hard line Bruce's jaw is set into, but the glare that's leveled at him is so intense it's near palpable.

Ted smiles sheepishly and what comes out of his mouth is, for some reason, “Kids, am I right?” even though his new lab assistant is well into her thirties. Whatever. Bruce doesn't have to know that.

There's a sigh that's equal parts irritated and resigned. “Get off your damn phone and pay attention,” Bruce orders. “They could be here any moment.” He turns his attention back to the alleyway beneath the roof they're perched upon as they wait for the contact who's supposed to have information about Ted's stolen tech. Have been waiting for _hours_.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ted says as he pointedly does not put his phone away. He's bored out of his mind. It may come as a shock to most, but the Batman is not a great source of amusement. The novelty of his presence wears off quickly when you're forced to sit in the seemingly ever-falling Gotham rain with him for the majority of the night. Quicker when you've known him for years.

Ted ends up aimlessly scrolling up and down his contact's list until Booster's name catches his eye. He grins as the idea pops into his head. Just last week, Booster sent him a few megabytes worth of pictures of himself at unflattering angles that he'd found from various places on the internet and had apparently been storing up like the world's most ridiculous pack rat until he could flood and nearly explode Ted's computer with them without warning. This retribution is tame.

_Booster,_

_You need to watch this. ASAP. It's important._

Bruce is staring him down again when he looks up from attaching the link. Ted rolls his eyes as he hits send before pocketing his phone.

“Alright, _dad_ ,” he says with deliberate petulance. “I'll stop texting at the dinner table.”

Bruce grunts.

 

* * *

 

They find a kid Ted vaguely recognizes as one of the interns they'd cycled out a few months ago hastily trying to fashion a gun out of Ted's stolen tech in an abandoned warehouse at the Gotham docks. He scoffs when Ted kicks down the door, then chokes in terror when Batman steps into the building behind him.

It's a little insulting, really, but it all wraps up nicely in the end. He has his stolen goods and Bruce has one less hooligan on his streets. Victories all around.

“A pleasure, as always,” he tells Bruce as he's heading off, and preforms an extravagant bow for effect. “Feel free to summon me again if ever you're in need of bug-themed assistance.”

Bruce sighs like it's all very trying, but Ted swears he catches the tail end of a quickly suppressed smile when he rises from his bow. “Screen your employees more thoroughly,” he suggests as he turns to leave, cape snapping dramatically behind him, then stops just on the edge of the building and throws a, “and learn how to silence your phone,” over his shoulder before he grapples off into the night.

Ted shakes his head as he heads in his own direction in a much less theatrical fashion, opting to just pull trench coat over his old costume and walk like a _normal_ billionaire ex-vigilante. Geez.

He pulls out his phone once he's on the street. There's only one message—from a one _Michael Jon Carter_ , predictably—and Ted starts to unlock his phone before he notices that it's short enough to be fully displayed in the notification.

 _oh_ , it says. Just _oh._

Ted stares down at the two letters in confusion until his screen shuts itself off for inactivity. He shoves it back into his pocket with a shrug. Booster can be so weird sometimes.

 

* * *

 

He forgets all about it over the next week of tearing his own security apart trying to figure out how an intern managed to get out the door with hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of technology without turning a single head or triggering a single alarm. He's elbow deep in employee files trying to look for anything suspect when Booster appears in the middle of the room.

Ted spins around in his chair at the familiar sound of his entrance, his witty greeting dying in his throat when he sees the look on Booster's face.

“I'm sorry it took me so long to come talk to you,” he starts in a tone as serious as Ted's ever heard. It makes him sit up a little straighter, worry knotting in his stomach. Booster takes a step forward, his mouth pressed into a hard line. “I just needed a few days to—to figure some stuff out, but I've been thinking.” He pauses to take a deep breath, clearly gathering himself to say something Earth-shattering and, potentially, timeline shattering if Ted''s hunch is correct. “I—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ted stops him, pushing his chair back a few inches to put back the distance between Booster had taken and holding up his hands as if to physically block anything Booster says from reaching him. Booster looks slightly stricken by the action. “I think you're in the wrong time,” he says.

Booster blinks. “What?” He seems to short out for a moment, then comes back to his senses with a jolt and starts patting at his torso like he's forgotten he doesn't have pockets. Or anything to put in pockets. It takes him a few seconds before he apparently remembers these facts and makes grabbing motions until Ted hands him his own phone. When the screen lights up to display the date, Booster frowns.

“Are you messing with me?” he asks, then tosses Ted's phone back to him with a scowl. “The _one_ time I try to be serious, and you're messing with me?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Ted assures, wholly lost.

“Are you f—ugh!” Booster huffs. “You sent me a—” He stops to clear his throat, cheeks going a bit dark. “You sent me a song,” he says, then stresses, “A _love_ song.”

It takes a minute for Ted to realize what he's talking about, one joke message buried in a busy week full of hundreds of others in his memory.

Booster keeps talking.

“I was kinda freaked out at first, buddy, not gonna lie,” he says, running a hand over the back of his neck in an uncharacteristically bashful manner. “I had no idea you had those kind of feelings for me, but, uh, I thought about it for a while—like, a _long_ while—and, well.” He takes a deep breath and meets Ted's eyes with a serious expression. “I feel the same way.”

It's then that Ted realizes what, exactly, he's talking about, and oh holy god. Booster thinks his Rickroll was a love confession. Booster—Booster thinks Ted is in love with him, and he just—he just confessed. Booster just confessed to him.

Booster Gold just confessed to him, and he's not even joking.

“Uh,” he hears himself start, and, before he can get a hold of his mouth, continues, “thanks.”

Ted barely holds back a wince. Thanks. _Thanks._ Really.

“You're welcome,” he says with a slight laugh, crossing his arms and leaning against Ted's desk. His smile falls into something thoughtful as he stares down at Ted, who is frantically trying and failing to try and think of a way to get out of this without hurting him.

“I've never really dated anyone,” Booster starts after a few seconds of silence, “not seriously, anyway,” and, oh, great, they're already _serious_ , “but I'm pretty sure this is the part where one of us is supposed to ask the other out. So...” He leans forward and extends a hand with one of his trademark smiles. “Ted Kord, would you do me the honor of joining me for a night on the town?”

“We're in the twenty first century, not the eighteenth,” Ted says in a slightly desperate attempt to stall. Something. Think of _something_ , Kord. Something. _Anything_.

Booster tilts his head. “We could do it twenty first century style if you'd rather,” he says, grin going a bit crooked. “Right here on the floor.”

“That was unbelievably lame,” Ted tells him. “I'm in pain. Physical pain.”

Booster laughs. “I do my best.” He stands up straight with a sigh. “We can work out all the details tomorrow,” he says. “You look tired.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Booster pats him on the head, something that would've seemed like ribbing a few minutes ago, but now—

“Get some rest,” Booster suggests. “Big day tomorrow.” He shifts where he's standing after he says it like he's deliberating something. Then, he leans over and presses his lips quickly to Ted's forehead, vanishing in a flash of light a second after.

“Why,” he addresses the ceiling, the stars, any deity that might be listening after a few moments of staring at the space Booster had vanished from. “ _Why_.”

 

* * *

 

“What's your _deal_ today?” Jaime asks in the morning after Ted zones out during their training session for the third time in a row. He's pried himself free of his suit just to give Ted a dirty look without the impairment of his mask.

“Ah,” Ted rubs at his eyes, “sorry. Long night.”

Jaime's nose wrinkles in disgust. “Dude. _Ew_.”

“Not like _that._ ” Ted shakes his head with faux disappointment. “Dirty, dirty mind. For shame.”

Jaime shrugs, unabashed. “I'm young,” he says, and takes a seat next to Ted on the ground. “What _is_ going on, though? I've never seen you this distracted, and that's saying something.”

Ted drums his fingers against the flooring. Is he really desperate enough to toss aside all pride and any facade of a role model he's scraped by on thus far for input on his screwed up love life? Has he really been driven to this?

“Do you remember Booster Gold?” he asks.

Jaime laughs in his face after he finishes the story.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says at Ted's expression, wiping a tear from his eye. “God, I think that's just the most _you_ how-we-got-together story possible. Ha!” Jaime actually snorts. “' _Rickrolling got me laid!'_ ”

“It didn't get me—don't talk about your teacher like that! I'm supposed to be an authority figure. Show some respect.”

“Show some respectability,” Jaime suggests with a grin, and laughs again when Ted slaps an offended hand over his heart.

“It's kinda cute, though,” he says after a few beats of silence. “No, really,” he continues when Ted quirks a suspicious eyebrow at him, waiting for the punchline. “It's, like, really original. Way more interesting than all the millions of couples who met at parties.”

“We aren't a couple,” Ted says. “I didn't even mean—ugh.” He cuts himself off with a groan. “This is ridiculous.”

Jaime goes quiet for a few seconds, donning a thoughtful expression as he tilts his head. “So you don't like him like that?”

“He's my best friend,” is all Ted can think to say.

Jaime looks amused. “That's not a no.”

Ted pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I can't talk about this with a twelve year old,” he says, laughs at Jaime's outraged squawk, and spends the rest of the day in deep contemplation.

 

* * *

 

“Rosebuds for my best bud!” Booster calls as he pops into existence in front of Ted's desk. A bouquet of bright red roses is tossed onto Ted's keyboard, efficiently halting any work.

Ted can't help a snort. “Roses?” he asks, looking up at Booster's beaming face with a raised eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes, _really_. They're classic. Can't go wrong with roses.” He crosses and uncrosses his arms, bouncing on the balls of his feet with nervous energy. Ted tries and fails to suppress a smile.

“Fair enough,” he says as he stands, stretching out after hours of sitting as he worked. “Still pretty cheesy.”

Booster grins. “You think _that's_ cheesy? You ain't seen _nothing_ yet.”

Ted plucks one of the roses from the bouquet and tucks it into his suit pocket. He quirks an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be enticing?”

Booster pulls his eyes back up from the flower to Ted's face and shrugs cheekily. “I think you're enticed,” he says.

“Oh, I am, am I?”

Booster smirks. “Oh, you are. Very.” He offers his arm. “Shall we?”

Ted considers it. “One condition,” he says after a moment.

Booster tilts his head.

“Never Gonna Give You Up _cannot_ be our song.”

Booster looks offended on the song's behalf. “What? Why not?”

Ted holds up a hand. “Just—trust me.”

He scowls for a moment before giving in with a sigh. “Fine,” he concedes. “I guess.” There's a beat. “So long as you know,” he grins, “that I'm never gonna give you up.”

Ted groans as Booster locks their arms together. “I'm having second thoughts.”

“Never gonna let you down.”

“ _Michael_.”

 


End file.
